


No Rest For The Wicked

by Original_Cypher



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Erica's a slasher, Fluff, M/M, Pack, mentions of Allison/Isaac, mentions of Erica/Boyd - Freeform, mentions of Jackson/OC, mentions of others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-06
Updated: 2014-03-06
Packaged: 2018-01-14 20:37:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1278157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Original_Cypher/pseuds/Original_Cypher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a special night in the Stilinski-Hale household.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Rest For The Wicked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HandsomeHiJacked](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsomeHiJacked/gifts).



> This is for [](http://archiveofourown.org/users/6handsomeskulls)[6handsomeskulls](http://archiveofourown.org/users/6handsomeskulls), because I love you, and that is all. And also for Paige, because I'm not here in person to give you guys hugs.  
> So this is a fluffy, shippy, virtual hug. Ish.

At least once a month, sometimes more, sometimes _a lot_ more, members of the pack come over for dinner. Neither Stiles nor Derek mind, of course, but everyone knows that it satisfies a deeper need for Derek. Once they were all adults with careers of their own, it had become impractical to live in the same big house near campus. Besides, the 'commune' thing was becoming harder to explain to friends and coworkers. So they all scattered over different neighborhoods. Derek is still the alpha, though, and it's in his gut to feel the need to _be sure_ , to see for himself, that everyone is fine, on a regular basis.

Tonight, Isaac and Boyd are out on the town and Jackson's wife is taking care of their newborn, so Allison, Erica and the latest Whittemore to pass the bar with flying colors are gathered in the living room.

“Damn, Zack's getting _good_ ,” Jackson comments with a purr, looking like he's pondering licking his plate clean. There definitely is no trace of dessert on his spoon, with the way he's been sucking at it. Derek exchanges a sly eyebrow commentary, because it just borders on obscene. Maybe they should leave the guy alone with the cutlery.

“I _know_ , right?” Stiles beams, scraping what little is left on his plate with a greedy look on his face. “He's going to make us all fat.” He looks at Allison, then, realizing they are the only two humans around the table. “Well, just you and me.”

“Hey. I'm dating this amazing pastry chef you're talking about. If I didn't have self control, I would already _be_ as big as a house, so...” She sniffs at him in mock pity. “you're on your own, Stilinski.”

“Gee, you're too sweet.” Stiles bats his lashes at her, making Erica cackle. “I love my friends. I don't even know why I let them in here.”

“Hey.” Derek reaches over and tangles their fingers together loosely. “Zack's magical skills can't do shit. You're a slow food freak. You're not gonna get fat.”

Stiles turns to him, Derek knows him intimately enough to pinpoint exactly the moment his thoughts switch track. “And if I do?” he challenges, squeezing his hand softly.

“We'll just have to find a way for you to... burn more calories,” Derek muses, pulling their joined knuckles to his lips so he can mouth at Stiles' skin.

While the girls snicker quietly, Jackson makes a gagging noise. “Guys, _I'm_ the newlywed. _I_ should be the sickening one.”

“Bring Jo and the baby over next time, then.” Stiles doesn't take his eyes off Derek. “Give us some competition.”

Erica is smirking, raising her cellphone and pulling out the recording app. “Keep staring, boys. Any second now, someone's gonna start ripping clothes.”

“No, thank you,” Allison comments, but she's laughing.

“What? It would be so hot.” Jackson makes a token protest, but Erica shakes her head. “I mean it. Look at that. If it were on tv, there would be _gifs_.”

Derek snorts, leaning towards Stiles. “You'd write fanfiction about us, babe?” he teases, voice lowered.

Stiles raises his eyebrows. “Uh, I _have_. I gave it to your for your birthday.”

“I thought those were senarios-...”

“And, we're done here!” Jackson exclaims, slapping his hands on the table before pushing off his seat. “Dessert was awesome, kudos to your man, Alli, but I'm out before we get to... _dessert_.”

Derek and Stiles chuckle, parting, but it seems they have set off the signal for departure anyway. It's almost eleven, on a week night, so it's probably best. “Alright, I'm off too.” Allison says, then surveys the table. “Do you guys want any help?” They have a dishwasher now, but they still have to carry everything back to the kitchen.

“Nah. We'll take care of it tomorrow,” Stiles says absently.

“-later,” Derek corrects, quickly.

Stiles flushes faintly, but recovers fast. “Later.”

It's a lie. They all know it. There's a reason they're being obnoxious and chasing everyone out of their home.

“Uh huh.” Allison smirks, at them. The way Derek's thumb is grazing up and down his better half's spine is making Stiles' smile grow stupider by the stroke.

“I can stay,” Erica says. “I like dessert.”

Derek huffs out a bark of laughter, and plasters himself to Stiles' back, his hand slipping somewhere under Stiles' tee. “Go away,” the human tells her.

“Fine, fine.” Erica pretends to be annoyed, but her smile is frank and friendly when she follows the others to the lobby. Still, as they shrug on their coats, she makes sure to stage whisper. “One of these days, I'm going to set up spy cameras everywhere in this place.”

“Why not just the bedroom?” Jackson says, and Allison glares 'why did you have to ask?!' at him.

“ _Everywhere_ , Jax. Everywhere.”

“Bye!” Stiles calls with exaggerated cheer as the door close behind their friends. They studiously ignore the leers they receive in response.

In their defense, 'everywhere' is pretty much the most accurate guess there is.

“They know us too well,” Derek mutters in his hair.

“And you love it so much it makes you all tingly when you think about us. Your pack.”

“Shut up.”

“Mh hm.” Stiles wriggles in his embrace until he gets enough space to turn around and snuggle into his lover's neck. He hums, relaxing, then his eyes fly open. He pulls back, and smiles. “They're gone.”

“They are,” Derek agrees. He brings a hand up to brush his fingers at the corner of Stiles' lips. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

Stiles closes his eyes when Derek cups his face then buries his hand in his hair, pulling him in for a kiss, spreading a palm at the small of Stiles' back to press him flush to his chest. Stiles makes a soft, satisfied noise in the kiss, opening up and responding in kind. His hands rake up Derek's chest, frame his neck. Derek hums contentedly, chasing Stiles tongue. Pretty soon after their collision course came to an end, when they finally – and frantically – crashed into each other, Stiles made it his mission to find and learn each and every one of Derek's sweet spots. The one just bellow his ears as been used and abused and Derek couldn't be more happy about it. Right now, as Stiles kisses him like he's afraid he'd forget Derek if he stepped away, his thumbs are tracing slow circles there, and it's making the werewolf's knees weak. “Teeth,” he slurs.

Stiles gives a sound of protest, but pulls away. Before he parts completely, however, he ducks in to mouth, and _suck_ – the bastard – right under Derek's ear, showing full well he knows exactly what effect he has on his mate, all the damn time. Derek corrects his stance to get more balance when Stiles walks away. Yes, fuck, like the first day, he can still make him dizzy. He adjusts himself, huffing. “ _Ass_.” Now he's gonna have to pee kneeling down. Ha ha.

Their nightly routine is quickly taken care of, as they both prefer to shower in the morning – separately, if they want to get to work on time. When Derek gets to the bedroom, Stiles is already down to his underwear, turning on the bedside lamps. When he notices he's not alone, he smiles lazily, and walks up to the werewolf. He grabs the shirt Derek still has on. “Off,” he tells it. “ _Off._ ”

Derek laughs, brings hand behind his neck to comply. Stiles shuffles impatiently on his feet until the offending garment is removed and chucked to the floor, then proceeds to press close and nuzzle into the crook of Derek's neck. “Hm...” he purrs, just as the other lets out a happy sigh at the feeling of skin against skin. “You should always go shirtless,” Stiles muses, then amends. “Around me. Like, inside.”

“It's _January_.” He's a werewolf, not a polar bear.

“Details,” Stiles counters, mouthing along Derek's collar bone, until he reaches the round of his shoulder and gives it a playful nip. All the while, Derek uses the tip of his fingers to make swooping caresses up and down his back. Stiles shudders, then looks up, eyes smiling. “Love you.”

Derek grins, cups his face with one hand. “Love you, too,” he echoes, and presses his lips back to Stiles, in a series of quick pecks. He then trails off across Stiles' cheek, connectingdot after dot.

“You should get naked,” Stiles remarks, hands slipping down his sides to tug at the waistband of his jeans.

“Hm...” Derek doesn't participate much as Stiles thumbs the pants open and starts tugging the zipper down. Stiles has a new shampoo. It's citrusy. It dates back to this morning, but right there, behind his ear, he can-...

“Derek.”

The werewolf huffs, continues mouthing at Stiles' skin because turnabout is fair play. “But... _kisses,_ ” he points out, and that's a good argument, right? Stiles chuckles, indulges him a while longer before he pinches Derek's stomach and steps back. “You'd think this wasn't pleasant for you...” Derek pretends to complain, as he shimmies out of his clothes.

“Oh, it was.” Stiles flops onto the bed, watching avidly. “But _this_ is, too.”

Under his mate's watchful gaze, Derek strips entirely – because god knows why Stiles is comfortable sleeping in boxers. He grabs the soft, _soft flannel_ pants Jackson got him for his birthday – seriously, the guy knows his luxury brands – and steps into them quickly. Then he stands up, ducking an eyebrow at Stiles.

From where he's sprawled on the bed, the human grins. “Ready?”

“Do I not look ready to you?” Derek teases, crawling on all fours until he's hovering over Stiles.

“Yay...” Stiles mumbles against his lips, allowing one, lazy tangle of tongues before he shimmies away and snakes under the covers briskly. “Come on!” he chirps, eyes sparkly with excitement.

Derek laughs. There's nothing like Stiles being taken over by innocent, shiny glee to warm him to the core. He gets into bed and presses close, half behind Stiles so his lover can snuggle back comfortably.

Stiles sets the tablet against his folded legs so they can see the screen properly, while Derek goes back to hunting traces of shampoo. Okay, fine. He's a nuzzler, even without the citrus. So what?

“I hope Castiel's in this one.”

Derek smiles against Stiles' hair. “You just love your Destiel moments, don't you?”

“God, yes.” Stiles queues up the episode. “If it ever happens, I'm warning you, I might scream.”

Derek shifts until he can rest his arm across Stiles' stomach and presses a kiss to his head. “Truth be told, I'll probably be right there with you.”

 


End file.
